by Joan Bramsch
Ann's job was general gofer-scrub the carrots, shave the imported cheeses, separate the large green beans from the smaller, more tender ones-for Karl, the vegetable chef. At ten-thirty he told her it was time for her fifteen-minute break.
"R-r-ouse mit du!"
She laughed when he waved a spoon in the air, shooing her outside. Inhaling deeply, she relaxed on a low stone wall, watching the clouds change shape in the gentle breeze.
"Hi, Ms. Ann. Want some company?"
She turned and grinned at the gray-haired man walking toward her. “Charles! Come on, join me.” She scooted over. “Hear from the boss?"
"Yes. She hopes to be home by tomorrow."
"I'll bet you're glad."
He nodded. “I haven't had enough to do."
Ann thought this might be an opportune moment to ask the question that had been burning in her mind since yesterday. “Charles, do you know Jeffrey Madison?"
Charles studied her for a moment before he answered. “I've been driving him a little. Why do you ask?"
She shrugged and smoothed wrinkles from her white kitchen dress. “I saw you drive away with him yesterday afternoon ... and I wondered how come. Is he a friend of the family?"
"Mrs. Cummings told one 1 could take some outside jobs if I wanted,” he explained. “To earn a little extra cash while she was away.” He grinned. “Fine woman, Mrs. Cummings."
Ann agreed, then shared the amusing tale of Jeffrey's canceled tours. “I thought I was going to crown him."
"I've felt the same way at times."
She groaned in commiseration. “Don't tell me he made you his tour guide?"
Charles shook his head, gazing over the landscaped grounds. “I only took him to the golf course. He and Mr. Bailey played eighteen holes. Today I have to take him back with Ms. Wickoff.” He shook his head. “That man must be fresh out of golfing partners.
Everyone on the management staff plays with a big handicap."
Ann frowned in concern. Tom Bailey was the hotel's public relations director and Carol Wickoff was the convention coordinator. Could Jeffrey Madison be headhunting among the executives of the hotel? She decided she'd better watch him closely during the next few days.
Just then Karl bellowed from the kitchen door, and she rose quickly. “Looks as if there's no rest for the wicked."
Charles grinned. “That goes for the good ones too, little lady. Don't you work too hard."
Ann was crossing the lobby while on her lunch break on Friday, and she saw Jeffrey leave the hotel with Mark Ludlow, the general manager. The two appeared to be in fine spirits. Those golfing expeditions between Jeffrey and management were not happening by accident, she thought, and picked up a phone to call her boss.
"Come right up,” Vanessa said. “I've been home for hours."
Within five minutes Ann was in the penthouse on the twelfth floor of the hotel.
"Hello, Mrs. Cummings,” she greeted her boss. “You look wonderfully rested."
Vanessa smoothed her newly coifed ash-blond hair, then motioned her protégé to a burgundy leather chair. “I'll certainly be relieved when you finish your assignment, Ann.” She fluttered her perfectly manicured fingertips over her desk. “I'm getting buried under all this paper."
"I could help you after hours, Mrs. Cummings,” Ann offered.
"Oh, darling, I'm just a complaining old woman,” Vanessa said, laughing at herself.
"You just got out of a sick bed,” Ann said, “but you're certainly not old."
Vanessa speared her with an unwavering gaze. “Just how old am I, Ann?"
"Forty-five ... maybe,” Ann said, praying she hadn't guessed too high.
Vanessa leaned back in her chair and laughed merrily. “Pierre, my exercise coach, will be delighted."
Ann began to breathe again, then shifted uncomfortably as Vanessa studied her closely.
"You're concerned about something,” Vanessa finally said. “All right, out with it.” Her eyes narrowed and she placed one hand on her chest. “Don't tell me you're going to renege on our bargain."
"Me, ma'am? Not on your life!” Ann exclaimed, sitting up straight. “This is where I belong."
Vanessa inhaled deeply. “I couldn't agree with you more. Well, then. What?"
"I really hate to burden you at this time,” Ann said evasively. “Just when you've arrived home from the hospital."
"Oh, pish-posh, child! Tell me."
Ann spent the next few minutes explaining her concerns about a man named Jeffrey Madison. She told Vanessa about his outings with each of the three leading executives of the hotel, verifying her observation with Charles's information.
"Each was obviously planned, Mrs. Cummings."
"I wonder what the man does for a living?"
"He told me he's a headhunter ... for corporate executives."
Vanessa cleared her throat and leaned forward in her chair. “Mmmm, you seem to know a good bit about him."
It took Ann another fifteen minutes to tell her boss all that had happened in the past few days. By the end of Ann's recitation, Vanessa was gasping with laughter.
"None of it was very funny at the time,” Ann muttered.
"Priceless!” Vanessa spun around in her desk chair, clapping her hands together, then wiped tears from her sparkling eyes. “Absolutely outrageous!"
"Yes, ma'am.” Though Ann was glad she was entertaining her boss, she wished Vanessa could have taken her place during some of the episodes with Jeffrey. Except when he'd kissed her hand, she qualified. She rubbed her tingling fingertips over her skirt and concentrated again on the conversation. “So where does that leave the headhunting Mr. Madison?” she asked.
"Right where he belongs. Here."
"You're not going to order him to leave?” Ann asked incredulously.
Vanessa bounced up from her chair and began to pace rapidly across the thick beige carpet. “If we tell him to leave, he'll still be working, only we won't be able to keep track of him."
Ann followed her boss's movements, feeling as if she were watching a one-woman tennis match. “I'm afraid I don't quite understand."
Vanessa moved to Ann's chair so quickly, she made the younger woman jump. “You must be my ears and eyes, Ann."
"But the hotel rules..."
"Forget them!” she declared breezily, waving her hand in regal dismissal. “This is a special assignment. What will I do if this renegade shanghais my key people?"
Ann's gaze was captured by Vanessa's entreating eyes. Without her boss having to say another word, Ann could tell she was begging her not to let the River Regency down.
"I'll do it,” she promised, taking Vanessa's proffered hand to seal the bargain. “I won't fail you, Mrs. Cummings. I promise. My future lies with the River Regency now."
"Truer words were never spoken, Ann. Now I expect you've other duties to attend to, so I'll let you get to them. But remember, dear, watch that man's every move, and keep me apprised of the situation."
Friday evening, after dinner, Ann prepared for her special assignment ... although she had trouble remembering that this was an assignment, and not a secret assignation with a wonderfully compelling man. She indulged in a long, fragrant bubble bath, then chose a new gown she'd purchased the week before at the Josephina Boutique in the Galleria. It was a figure-skimming French creation of blue silk. A simple but bold design, it draped over her right shoulder, leaving her left one bare, and caressed her legs at mid-calf in an uneven hem.
She brushed her sable hair until it shone, then fastened it behind her ear with an iridescent indigo butterfly clip. Tiny pearls graced her ears: a single pearl on a gossamer-thin chain encircled her wrist, and another hugged her ankle.
She leaned close to the mirror to inspect her makeup. Her teal blue shadow made her eyes appear even larger and bluer. She smiled confidently at her reflection. She looked like an entirely different person tonight, with her hair cascading to her slender waist and one shoulder bare. Gone for tonight was the
trim, serious professional. The woman who'd taken her place was mysterious, alluring.
Ann felt lighthearted and relaxed ... and excited. Something exciting was going to happen to her this evening. She could sense it.
Stop dream-Mg, Annie, she told herself. She had a job to do tonight. Her boss was counting on her.
When she slipped on her silver high-heeled sandals, she felt again the stir of excitement, and laughed. Her heart beat a little faster, and her cheeks flushed as she realized the risks of this challenge. Vanessa hadn't set down any rules.
She'd only told Ann to watch Jeffrey Madison like a hawk.
Ann dabbed a sultry perfume on her pulse points and behind her knees, then picked up her lamb handbag. Watching Jeffrey would be her pleasure, she thought as she took one last look in the mirror. He was one of the most handsome and strong men she'd ever had the privilege to meet. He had a zany sense of humor, not unlike her own. And he seemed to be a gambler too. Didn't he risk his life to rescue little boys from scary mountain tops? She shook a finger at her reflection. That kind of thinking could get her in way over her head.
Downstairs she strolled toward the garden lounge, pausing by the shimmering fountain in the lobby. The bubbling water cascaded over a tall crystal sculpture whose slim shape reminded Ann of a futuristic, contoured obelisk. Underwater spotlights gave the clear glass a mysterious aura.
She ordered a glass of champagne to celebrate the end of her first week at the hotel. She was about to sit at a table in the lounge, when she heard the first notes of a melody drift across the lobby from the grand piano. She glanced at her small gold watch. It was long past the hour when the house musicians entertained, so it must be one of the guests playing. She felt drawn to the enchanting sound and, champagne in hand, walked over to a large white sofa near the piano and sat down.
Jeffrey was playing the piano, and his attention was captured by the dark-haired woman in the blue dress. As he automatically played a popular Gershwin tune, he tried to figure out the beautiful woman's identity. Was she who he thought she was?
She had a figure no man could forget, especially when it was encased in such an elegant but revealing dress. Though her face was shadowed, her long black hair seemed to shimmer. Spectacular was the only adjective that did it justice.
Look at me! he ordered silently, and as if she had read his mind, the woman gazed directly at him.
Yes! he thought, surprised at the intensity of his pleasure. It was Ann. He smiled broadly at her, holding her gaze while he improvised variations on romantic Broadway ballads. His mind was spinning dizzily. He was absolutely stunned by Ann's beauty. She was totally different tonight. Her dress, her hair, even the relaxed way she was sitting. It was as if she were a stranger, though he knew that she was not.
Still, the idea lingered, making Jeffrey more determined than ever to know the elusive Ms. Waverly on a more personal level. To that purpose, he began a medley of tunes dedicated to her blue gown, her indigo-blue eyes, and his blue mood if he were rebuffed again.
Ann had recognized Jeffrey as soon as he'd smiled at her. He looked magnificent in a midnight-blue raw silk jacket, and his sun-streaked blond hair gleamed in the soft lights. She was pleased she could elicit such attention from the most handsome man in the lobby. She could tell he hadn't realized who she was at first, and that thought made her smile.
She settled back against the cushions, crossing her long legs, and lifted her glass in a silent toast to his talent.
Captivated by her smile, Jeffrey felt a rush of heat through his body. His attraction to her was affecting him ... dramatically. His pulse was racing and every muscle in his body seemed to be tautening with excitement. Was it, he asked himself, because she seemed approachable tonight? Her smile was sensuous and mysterious, provocative yet sincere. What message was she sending him? he wondered, intrigued by the possibilities.
At that moment a tall, debonair man approached Ann. He sat on the black marble table beside the sofa and began talking with her. Jeffrey glared at the man, then abruptly ended the song he was playing and walked over to Ann. He sat down beside her, patently ignoring the intruder.
” I hope you enjoyed the music, darling,” he said, stroking her upper arm. “I played the medley especially for you."
Jeffrey's tingling touch sent a secret message directly to Ann's center. She could feel her breasts firm, the tips pucker. Mesmerized, she said, “I loved every note, darling. Thank you."
The other man took the hint, bid Ann a pleasant good evening, and retreated to the lounge. Jeffrey couldn't hide his self-satisfied grin.
"I wasn't absolutely sure it was you at first,” he said to Ann.
She laughed softly, gazing at him through the thick veil of her long dark lashes. “Do you make a habit of seducing women with your beautiful music?"
"Only the most attractive ones. Tell me,” he murmured, “was I successful?"
Oh, that voice! she thought, feeling waves of pleasure ripple up from her toes. Why couldn't he sound like a foghorn ... or how Valentino really sounded, high and squeaky? It seemed so unfair. Smiling demurely, she traced the edge of her glass with one fingertip, coaxing a musical tone from the smooth crystal. “Perhaps."
Encouraged, Jeffrey moved closer. He breathed in deeply, savoring her heady, tantalizing fragrance. “I'm very glad you came tonight. May I assume that you've changed your mind?"
He was still stroking her arm and she caught his hand in hers, halting his exploration. His touch was doing more than he realized, gradually turning her middle to Jell-O. Or did he know? she mused, giving him a mysterious smile. “It isn't wise to assume anything these days, Jeffrey."
"Especially with you?"
"You're very astute."
"And you're pointedly vague,” he complained softly. “You've been constantly in my thoughts today. The man on security duty in the lobby asked me three times if he could help me."
Ann tipped her head questioningly.
He chuckled. “I was looking for you, but I think the guy thought I was casing the joint."
She laughed and patted his hand. “Poor baby. I'm sorry Tim gave you a bad time."
"None of it matters, Ann, if you'll go out with me.” He stared into her indigo eyes. “Will you? I want so much to be with you."
The warm glow in his eyes, the seductive note in his voice, almost made her forget entirely about his job, his golf games with River Regency executives. She inhaled his individual scent combined with some wonderfully masculine cologne, then nodded her head, sending strands of sable hair shimmering across her blue bodice.
"Yes, Jeffrey. I want to be with you too,” she said. And it had nothing to do with her assignment for Vanessa, she realized. “But we'll have to be very discreet. I could be fired on the spot if we're discovered."
His hand tightened around hers, then began a seductive caressing that caused her to shiver. “I'm very glad you changed your mind,” he said. “I want us to be friends ... good friends."
She laughed throatily, relieving the tension in her body. When they exchanged secretive smiles, she felt almost light-headed. At that moment she wished she'd never gone to Vanessa Cummings with her suspicions. Jeffrey Madison might be an executive recruiter, but her intuition told her he would never do anything unethical. Still, her good sense demanded to be heard. Then why had he convinced her, it asked, to break house rules? She gave her head a little shake. The answer was simple. He liked her. Could he help it if she worked where he was staying?
"I think we're going to have to find a more private place, don't you?” she said. “The River Regency lobby presents a rather panoramic view of our budding friendship."
He took the fragile glass from her and placed it on the table, then rose smoothly, drawing her up with him. “We'll take a stroll,” he said. “Eventually we'll find our way to the side terrace. Its shadows will give us the privacy we seek.” He tucked her arm in his. “Come, my lady. We begin our adventure."
"Do you think we can rea
lly fool the world, even for a little while?” she asked, her stomach clenching with sudden apprehension. And could she fool him as well? she wondered. Her conscience gave her a decidedly sharp nudge and added, Did she want to? Spying was about as foreign to her usually forthright way of living as hundred-year-old brandy was to apple pie. Why had she given her promise to her boss? She liked Jeffrey. She wanted to know him better too. But now her role as informant would get in the way of any honest relationship they might pursue. “Suddenly I have cold feet,” she whispered.
"When the rules of the world are foolish, we break them,” he said, his smile assured. “Or at least we bend them to our liking."
"But this rule makes sense, Jeffrey. I think I may be asking for trouble.” If she could convince him of her hesitancy, perhaps he'd understand. How could she do this? She didn't want to spy on him. She'd never knowingly deceived anyone in her life, and it didn't sit well with her.
"It makes no sense where you and I are concerned,” he said. “And I'll give you no trouble ... if you start walking toward the terrace this instant.” His blue eyes grew dark as he met her wavering gaze. “Come on,” he challenged her, grinning devilishly. “I thought you were a gambler."
She laughed, tipping her head to the side. Oh, she did want to go with him, she thought. Perhaps her worrying was all for nothing. For tonight, she'd just go with the flow. “You've just said the magic word Mr. Mr. Madison, but I've never seen such staggering odds-against me."
He led her across the lobby, firmly holding her arm. “I rather think this time, the odds are against the house."
When they'd arrived on the starlit terrace, they stood quietly for a long moment, savoring the fresh breeze, gazing at the shadowed branches woven with moonbeams. They could almost taste the exquisite fragrance of the flowers. It was a night made for romance, Jeffrey thought, but first, he and Ann needed to talk.
"How long have you been in St. Charles?” he asked.